Harry Potter and the Graveyard of Memories
by shabd
Summary: The final battle...the final decision that could change the world...Harry has to make a terrifying choice. His life, or the world's fate? What will he choose? Can he have both? He's about to find out what war truly is... [our version of the 7th book]
1. Prolouge

**Harry Potter and the Graveyard of Memories **

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to J.K Rowling and other various artists. This fanfic is written purely for entertainment purposes.

Author Notes: This is going to be long story...I might not post regularly, but rest assured, I will not abandon this fic. However, all reviews are welcome, even if you only type "Good". Thanks.

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**Chapter 1**

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Pain.

Harry Potter was quite familiar with this word. The number of times he had felt pain were too many to count. It was like a part of him now; he was used to it.

He had faced numerous challenges, driven a flying car to school, got beaten up by the Willow Tree, faced hundreds of dementors alone, gone back in time to save Sirius Black from execution, survived the Triwizard Tournament and a dual with Lord Voldemort himself, and now he was still alive while Dumbledore was dead.

_Dumbledore was dead._

The harsh reality finally struck home. First his parents, then Sirius, and now Dumbledore.

How many people had to die to save him? How many had to die to thwart one murderer? How many before the world rid itself of evil? Some questions are meant to remain unanswered, and these were some of them. Harry knew that he couldn't ask these questions; who knew what the answers could be? But that didn't stop it from hurting. And yet, Harry couldn't look back; he had to keep going forward. After all, Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted him to give up; he would have wanted Harry to remain strong.

With this thought in mind, Harry got up and put his glasses on, waiting a moment for everything to clear up.

The clock on his bedside table showed the time to be 7:00am. He realized that the Dursleys' would be waking up soon, and sure enough, he could hear the sounds of his aunt as she moved around below. He walked the length of his small room to reach the bathroom. In there, he stood in front of the mirror and inspected himself.

He had surely changed, though for better or worse, he didn't know.

He was no longer the weak skinny boy he had been six years ago. Now he was stronger; the past few years had left their mark on him. He raised a hand and brushed back some jet-black hair from his eyes, revealing a deep green color. His scar, the one that had got him all this unwanted attention, was still there, though barely visible under his unruly hair. He had certainly grown a few inches or so, and his thin body made him look taller. Not to mention the fact that the clothes he was wearing were all hand-me-down's from his cousin, Dudley. They hung loosely and limply on his body. There was something about his face that made him look older than what he already was. A sense of sadness and determination surrounded him, making him look dangerous and vulnerable at the same time.

Finally, after all these years, he felt as though he was in control of his life; he knew what his aim was, and he knew that he was going to achieve it in spite of everything.

Harry gave a deep sigh, and turned away.

He surveyed the messy room where he had spent so much of his time, doing nothing but think about the future, and his role in it. He had been thinking about the prophecy that had been made. The one on which the whole world was dependent. The one, which had the power to change everything.

Ironic, Harry thought, that he was also included in this prophecy. Six years ago, if anybody had come to him and told him that he was supposed to defeat the greatest dark wizard of the time, he would have laughed in their face and told them to go see a doctor. But times had certainly changed. Whatever the outcome be, the world could never be the same again. At least, his world had changed too much to be normal again. At the moment though, his world consisted of one mission only – to find and defeat Lord Voldemort. His mission was fueled by anger and the desire for revenge, by sadness and determination.

But before he could venture further into his thoughts, he heard a shout from below.

"Aah! Who the hell are you? And just what are you doing here?"

"Dear, not so loud! The neighbors could be listening in."

He sighed again, bent down and splashed some water on his face, wiped his glasses clean, and started heading downstairs. He wondered who it could be. Just as he put a foot on the first step, he heard his uncle should again.

"You barge in here without any warning, threaten my family, and you think I'm just going to let you go? Petunia, go call the police. Dudley, get me that gun out of that drawer there. Now!"

Gun? Uncle Vernon had a gun? Harry didn't know that…things could get dangerous if he didn't step in now. He quickened his pace and hurried down the stairs two at a time. Just as he reached the bottom, he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

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	2. Meeting his friends

**

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****Chapter 2**

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As Harry stumbled into the kitchen, he heard a voice say, "We're here to see Harry Potter, sir!"

As he heard this voice, a grin came over his face. That voice! That was Hermione's voice! Straightening up, he saw a tall, gangly youth with fiery orange hair, a long nose, and freckles. Alongside him stood a pretty girl with bushy brown hair. As he came in, he saw wide smiles come on the faces of the two people. They were none other than Harry's two best friends, Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione, running forward and giving him a big hug.

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, walking forward, grinning. Harry grinned back, untangling himself from the mass of bushy hair.

"What are you both doing here?" he asked, straightening his glasses back on his face.

Their visit was certainly unplanned, and he was pleasantly surprised to see them here. Looking around the kitchen, he saw his aunt and Dudley standing behind Uncle Vernon, who looked as menacing as ever. His face had taken upon a more purplish hue, and Harry could see a vein pulsing in his forehead.

Meanwhile, his aunt looked the exact opposite. She was looking very scared and nervous, as if wondering what chaos would happen if the neighbors learned about this. Typical of Aunt Petunia, Harry thought. She was such a social person, always caring more about what others thought, than what the family thought. Well, let them think whatever they want. After all, this was his last visit to this house. After this, he would be free to go wherever he wanted, to do whatever he wished.

Suddenly his eyes came to rest upon Dudley, his cousin. He was staring at the wand that Ron held in his right arm, afraid that if he looked away even for a second, he might discover that he had suddenly grown an extra arm or something. True, he was right to be afraid; if a person wasn't alert, then he was more vulnerable to an attack. Harry had seen that with his own eyes, had seen what the consequences could be, and was now not willing to make that mistake anymore.

With an effort, he wrenched himself away from his thoughts and heard Hermione say, "Well, to say the truth, we were scared for you, Harry. After what happened at Hogwarts, we thought that it would be best if we came by and just asked how you are…" she trailed off lamely.

Harry smiled at her, and then turned to Ron. "How did you come here? You can't have flown all the way till here, and there is no floo connection here either…and I can't see your parents anywhere. And just what happened here?" he gaped at the scene which he had missed entirely on entering the kitchen. The kitchen table was overturned, and the chairs were all fallen over. He turned to look back at his friends with a questioning gaze.

"Ah, that. Well, that is partly my mistake, sorry. I got a little too excited at actually being inside a Muggle's house for the first time, and um…in my excitement I guess I got a little carried away." Ron smiled sheepishly, waving a hand towards the mess.

Hermione snorted. "A little? It looks like a mini hurricane has just passed by."

In his surprise on seeing his friends, Harry had completely forgotten the Dursleys. But Uncle Vernon was determined not to remain ignored for long.

"You!" exclaimed Mr. Dursley, furious. A vein throbbed in his right temple. "You! How dare you call these…these _creatures _here? How dare you call someone like _you _here! I've had enough. I will not tolerate you in this house for any longer."

"I'm sorry, _uncle_, but I cannot leave this house for good until I turn seventeen, no matter how much I want to." Harry said, quietly. Ron and Hermione stood by him supportively.

"Oh ho! And what if I make you leave? You can't do magic, can you? Not unless you want to be expelled from that school of yours!"

"He may not be able to do magic, but _we _still can," retorted Ron.

"And besides, Hogwarts is now closed. And even if it weren't, I wouldn't go back anyway." It was true. He had made up his mind. He would continue Dumbledore's work, and look for the rest of Voldemort's horcruxes. There were still four horcruxes left… four pieces of Voldemort's soul he had to destroy before he could go after the last piece still in Voldemort's vile body._ The locket, the cup, the snake, Something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's…_Instinctively, his hand closed around the fake horcrux that he still wore around his neck.

"And why is that?" His uncle's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

Harry gazed at his Uncle, wondering whether he should tell him about what was happening in the wizarding world or not. His friends looked at him, also waiting for his answer. Eventually he came to a decision.

"You really want to know?" he asked his uncle. "Fine then, I'll tell you. I'm sure you already know about Voldemort – he was the one who killed my parents, and also tried to kill me. But, as you can see, he failed."

"Stop blabbering, and get to the point!" his uncle interrupted impatiently.

Harry stopped and said coldly, "Do you want to hear what happened or not?"

He felt sure that his uncle was going to blow up again, but to his surprise, his aunt answered, "Yes, we do. Vernon, please, let the boy speak." Harry gazed in astonishment at Aunt Petunia. She had never stood up to his uncle like this before. Clearly his uncle was also not used to this, but thankfully he just nodded his head and stood back, looking at Harry with an expression that came close to a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

Harry paused a minute to glance at his friends, who smiled encouragingly at him in return, then continued, "As I was saying, Voldemort tried killing me sixteen years ago, but failed. Somehow, his curse rebounded and struck him back, leaving me with this scar and him without a body. Miraculously, he managed to stay alive all these years…trying in vain to get back to power. He was alive, but just barely. His followers had deserted him, except for a few who were put in Azkaban – the wizarding prison. That is why he tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone in my first year. That stone gives you the power of being immortal. But he failed. I'm not going to give you a whole account of his doings, but you need to know the fact that he was willing to do anything in order to become powerful again."

He paused again, trying to clear his head. After a while, he continued, "There was also this prophecy that was made, concerning Voldemort and me, back when he was still in power. And it was this prophecy that was his downfall."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Can you really change your destiny? Can you alter the workings of fate? What would I not give to turn back time, to change the past events." He fell silent once again, but this time it was an uncomfortable pause. Nobody knew what to say to him.

At length, Hermione tentatively spoke, "There are some things that are out of our hand, Harry. You may not be able to change the past, but the future lies in your hands."

Harry smiled at her, and said, "I know, Hermione. The whole world's future lies in my hands. That's a fact I don't think I can ignore, can I?" He sighed. "Life's like a game of chess. Once you've played your turn, you can't take it back. And then all you can do is sit back and wait for your opponent's move."

"That's where you're wrong, mate," Ron spoke up, "You don't have to just sit back and wait. You can try to figure out your opponent's move, and try to think of a way around it. Or you can start preparing yourself against it. Trust me, I should know. I am, after all, the chess champion." He joked.

Before Harry could say anything, his uncle interrupted, "But didn't you just say that this Voldy-what's-his-name guy disappeared? So then, what's the problem? Whom are you hiding from?"

Harry's eyes started blazing with a fire that wasn't there before. He stared at his uncle, who seemed to have realized that was a wrong thing to say.

"I am not 'hiding' from anyone, if that's the way you put it. It is not by choice that I have to stay here. And I said that Voldemort disappeared, not died. Unfortunately, he has now returned to power." Harry spoke coldly, not taking his eyes off his uncle the whole time. "It is important that you know the reason why you had to put up with me all these years. My parents died trying to save me, however my mother needn't have died. She had a choice to live, and yet she chose death. In doing so, she gave me a special protection that Voldemort didn't know about. While I am still at a relative's place, I am protected from him. However, this protection will cease to exist the time I turn seventeen, which is, incidentally, tomorrow. That is the reason why I am still here. Other than this, I do not think you have any right to know more."

Harry turned back to his friends, who had different expressions on their faces.

Ron was gazing at him in a mixture of awe and fear, while Hermione was looking slightly annoyed at him for speaking to the Dursley's like that, not unmixed with surprise.

He supposed he was slightly surprised at himself, for he had never spoken so coldly with the Dursley's in his entire life so far. He knew that they didn't deserve to be spoken to like that, for however badly they had treated him; at least they hadn't thrown him out in the street to starve. But somewhere within him, he felt that they deserved this tone; the way with which they had treated him was not easy to forget, let alone forgive.

"Come on guys, let us go somewhere else to talk. I've had enough of this place for now." Without waiting for them to respond, he turned around and walked out the kitchen door, wanting to escape Uncle Vernon as quickly as he could, before he regained his wits and called Harry back for another conversation. However, his friends spared a second to talk to the still dumbfounded Dursleys.

"We know all about how you have treated him, and we are not asking you to beg for his forgiveness. However, all we ask is that you don't pressure him for something he doesn't want to do. You have no idea what he is going through at the moment; he has an enormous responsibility on his shoulders. The whole world's fate depends on him. The least you can do is leave him alone for this one day." After saying this, Hermione disappeared outside after Harry, leaving Ron alone in the house.

"I am not going to give you another speech, but yeah, I agree with what Hermione said. If you can't show Harry any kindness, at least don't make him more miserable." Ron also started for the door, but as he reached it, he turned back one more time, and said, "By the way, you have a nice house. Sorry for the mess I caused. I would have cleaned it up, but I have a feeling it would only freak out you guys more. It was a pleasure meeting you." He stepped outside, looking around for his two best friends. He found them walking down the road that leads to the park nearby, and hurried up to catch up.

He reached there just in time to hear some of their conversation. "But Harry, what are you going to do now? Where will you go?" Hermione was saying.

"I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know." Harry replied, sighing.

"Hey, why don't we just forget about that for a minute." Ron interrupted, giving Hermione a side-along glance, warning her to just drop the topic. "We've come to get you Harry. Mum will be waiting for us at the Burrow."

On seeing Harry's blank look, he added, "You haven't forgotten, have you? Bill and Fleur's wedding is coming up this week." Harry laughed.

Bill and Fleur's wedding…he had completely forgotten about that. Was he allowed to go, however? Dumbledore had asked him to stay at his aunt and uncle's place till he came of age, and that was what he had been doing for the past two weeks.

Reading Harry's mind, Ron said, "Don't worry mate, we've got it all worked out. Since you turn seventeen tomorrow, you shall come over to stay at the Burrow from tomorrow. But mum wanted to see you beforehand, just get an idea of what you'll be wearing and stuff like that."

"But if you ask me, I think she's only worried about you, Harry. Everyday she's been asking us whether we have any news from you or not," Hermione interrupted, giving Harry a glance from the corner of her eyes, "and everyday we tell her that you're fine. You _are_ fine, aren't you?"

Harry inwardly smiled at Hermione's choice of words. He knew that she was dying to talk to him about what had happened, and what he was going to do now, but she was too afraid to ask him straight away. He decided to make it easier for her, since he knew that eventually they would have to have this conversation. Why not just get over with it?

"Yes, Hermione. I'm absolutely fine. I've been meaning to talk to you guys about some things. Let's go and find a nice spot to sit and talk in." He replied.

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	3. Their decisive talk

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Chapter 3

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**

The trio walked down the road and to the park nearby.

Ron and Hermione sat down on the swings while Harry leaned on the crossbar. They looked at him expectantly, though not unmixed with some fear. Fear of what, however, Harry couldn't tell.

'So, what do you want to talk to us about, mate?' questioned Ron.

'I've been thinking about all that's happened so far, and I've been meaning to ask you guys something." Harry started.

He took a deep breath and then continued, "For the past seven years, you guys have been with me, stuck by my side, even when no one else was. You've fought alongside me against Umbridge, the Death Eaters, Malfoy, Snape, and believed in me when the Daily Prophet was writing all those lies. You have been through a lot, and it's all because of me. I've been meaning to ask, do you want to go on? Are you sure you want to continue putting yourselves at risk just for me? If something were to happen to one of you, I would feel horrible, it would be entirely my fault. I don't want you guys to think that you _have_ to stay by my side. You can stop here and now if you wish. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you to because you thought that you had to stay by me. I'm giving you two a chance to back down if you want.' He finished heavily, staring at the tree nearby rather than their faces.

He loved having his friends along with him, lending their support, but if something happened…no, a lot of people had already lost their lives because of him. He would not allow anybody else he cared for to die.

'We're not going to bail on you now, Harry, not after working so hard to keep you alive,' Ron said solemnly.

'You might feel bad if something were to happen to _us_, but we would feel even worse if something happened to you because we weren't there to back you up,' agreed Hermione.

'Are you two sure? Because – '

'We are both sure. We are not going to leave you, and this is the last time we say this. Is that clear?' Hermione cut him off and said decidedly.

'Like I said, why waste all the hard work if you were to go and die now? Ron said, now grinning.

'Surely you didn't expect anything else of us, did you Harry?' asked Hermione, also smiling slightly.

'I guess not, no,' Harry admitted, nodding, with a hint of a smile on his lips.

'Good. Now that that's cleared, what should we do until you turn seventeen at midnight?' asked Hermione.

'I know! Let's go explore the muggle town!' Ron said excitedly.

Harry and Hermione jointly groaned. 'Ron! Have you already forgotten what you did to the Dursley's house?' Hermione said in a disapproving voice. Harry laughed, remembering the mess Ron had created in the kitchen.

He could just imagine his aunt groaning and complaining at the mess, and his uncle threatening to skin him alive the moment he stepped into the house, while his cousin would be throwing a tantrum because he was not getting any attention from both of them. Yes, he decided, it would not be safe to go back for a while…at least, not until his relatives had calmed down.

"I think it's a great idea. Besides, we've got nothing else to do, have we? I don't think it would be a good idea to go back right now…" Harry said, smiling at his two friends.

Ron brightened up immediately, and even Hermione nodded, though not before giving Ron a warning, "If anything, and I repeat, _anything_, goes wrong, then you'll be in big trouble Ronald Weasley."

Ron grimaced and quickly nodded his head, determined to be on his best behavior. Harry chuckled at his friends, thinking how great it was that they had come to visit him. What would he have done without them?

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	4. Insights and decisions

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Chapter 4

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**

Harry lay on his bed that night, thinking about the day that he had spent with his friends.

He didn't think he'd ever had so much fun before, not even when he was at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts…the name brought forth a fresh load of memories. Hogwarts was the only place he cared about enough to call home. He felt safe there. It was there that he had learnt the meaning of a family. His friends, his teachers, even the castle itself were a part of him, never to be forgotten.

But it was from there that he had learnt the meaning of betrayal, seclusion, sorrow, responsibility, guilt, and most of all, survival, as well. There were good times, and there were bad times, but he still couldn't help relieving the worst memories far more often than the happy ones.

If there was one thing that he had learnt in life, it was that surviving was the most important thing. Guilt, more than any other emotion, dictates nearly all our lives. However, for those who care more about surviving than living, guilt has no place in their lives.

That is exactly what Voldemort is, Harry realized, a person without any feeling, who is solely concentrating on surviving, rather than living. It's amazing how thin the line is, between these two.

At the moment, Harry was standing precariously between them, tottering first towards one, then the other.

On one hand, he wanted to live his life on his own, where he was just an average child, and not the boy-who-lived. A life where he could do whatever he wanted, without the whole world following him like an idol, where he could have some privacy, rather than having his whole life being shouted out to the world.

And on the other hand, he knew that he was too old for these wishes. His life was unusual, and was going to get even more unique. Nothing he could say would change that. Everybody was putting their hope and trusts in him, a 17-year-old boy, whom they had only heard about. They trusted him to keep them safe, to save their loved ones. But who was going to keep him safe? Who would he turn to when he was feeling scared?

Responsibility. Duty. Pressure. Blame.

He was familiar with each of those words. They made up his entire life. But was he strong enough for it?

More importantly, why should he be the one to put up with all this? Why not somebody else? Wasn't he allowed to have his own life? He hadn't asked for this. Then why did he get it?

He suddenly remembered something that Hermione had said to him that morning.

_He had been staring at some children playing in the field nearby, while Ron and Hermione were talking about what they should eat for lunch, when suddenly Hermione stopped talking and looked towards him. _

_She followed his gaze towards the children, and said, in a gentle voice, "Life often deals you a lot of pain. But at long as you walk along your chosen path with a smile, everything will work out." _

_He was surprised at her words, and had gazed at her, wondering what she was talking about. But she had only smiled at him, shook her head, and continued talking with Ron as if nothing had happened._

He had then dismissed her words, but now they came back to him with such force that he couldn't ignore them anymore.

What was his chosen path? To save the innocent from evil? To destroy Lord Voldemort? To revenge his family's death? Perhaps, it was a mixture of all those things.

Partly, he was doing it for the past, and partly for the future. After all, past, present and future are just words…the barrier that separates them might not be too strong after all.

He remembered all those people whom he had loved and known at some point in his life – his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric, and to an extent, all those people who had sacrificed their lives so that he could live a little longer.

And then he remembered those people whom he still loves, and who are currently still fighting so that he could stay alive for a little while longer – Ron, Hermione, Remus, McGonagall, and the whole of the Order.

Which is stronger? His love for himself, or his love for the world?

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He turned around, looking out of the only window in the room. The moonlight filtered through, clothing his room in silver light. It was a silent night; the birds outside were apparently sleeping as well.

The only constant thing in life is time, isn't it? Well, Harry decided, time will tell us the answer to that question when it seems fit to do so.

Amazing, how much one can think about when you've got nothing else to do. Two weeks in a house, with nothing else to do except think can make you realize quite a lot of important things. It can make you think about your actions, and its consequences; your goals, and your path; your wishes, and your reality.

Harry rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. Enough of thinking, he decided. Hermione and Ron had gone back to the Burrow for the night, but they had said that they would be back the next day for him.

He shut his eyes, and sighed. Nothing for it, he decided. Might as well get some sleep while he could…after all, tomorrow was going to be a long day.


	5. The vision

Chapter 5

That night, the night before his 17th birthday, Harry twisted and turned in his sleep. He had been lying awake for a long time, and when he finally fell asleep, he couldn't ignore the hunch that something was going to happen.

It seemed as though he wasn't wrong.

As the first gong for midnight struck, time seemed to stop. Not a sound was heard, except for the chiming of the clock. On the twelfth gong, at the dot of midnight, as Harry's 17th birthday came to be, Harry Potter had a vision in his sleep.

As he tossed and curved in his bed, a searing pain shot through his scar, and then he saw it. A tall man with unruly jet-black hair stood in an empty lot. Harry recognized the tall man; it was he. In front of him were two shimmering, shadowy forms. The two forms were the spirits of his parents, James and Lily Potter. Harry didn't know how he knew this, he just did.

The vision lasted only for a few seconds. As soon as it was over, Harry awoke, his emerald eyes bright with fear and confusion, and something that could almost be called understanding.

While such visions weren't unusual for him, this was the first time something this strange had happened before.

However, he understood the message behind it - he had to go to Godric's Hollow, the place from where it all began.

Something important was to happen there…he just didn't know what.

Harry groaned, and thrust his hand towards his side-table blindly. His hand found his glasses, and he put them on with shaking hands.

While he would never admit it out loud, he was very nervous about this. What if this was also a false vision, like the one Voldemort had planted to lure him into the Ministry? What if he was walking straight into a trap again?

There was nobody to even go to, to consult with. He couldn't afford to place his friends in danger again…not after what happened in the Ministry.

Yet, something told him that it was true. Call it his gut instinct, but he _knew_ that he was supposed to go there. The sooner, the better.

Yes, Harry decided. He would go. But after the wedding was over. Till then, he decided that he better get a good night's sleep, for his friends and he had decided to leave early that morning.

As he settled down once more on his bed, he was reminded of a line that his godfather Sirius had once spoken, a long time ago, on a rare moment when he had been allowed to stay with him for one day.

He could still see Sirius's frame silhouetted in the moonlight, as his godfather had looked out of the window. A look of such extreme sadness was seen on his face that Harry forgot every other thing, except that moment.

"_The past is over, now is the time for the present. A force has risen, and it will revolt. Our efforts will not go in vain, for that time is not far in coming. So be strong, and hold on. We cannot afford to let go now, with success so near." _


	6. Birthday morning

Chapter 6

Harry was woken from his sleep by a bucket of cold water being poured over him in the morning. He woke up instantly, spluttering with rage and confusion. He hazily made out a shape in front of him before he heard Ron's voice.

"Happy birthday, mate! Now get up, 'Mione has already made plans for the whole day, and she says that if you're not down in ten minutes, you're not getting any breakfast."

Harry looked around, searching for his glasses, before a grinning Ron pushed them into his hand. He sleepily muttered, "Thanks," and started getting up.

He didn't get very far before he spotted the pile of birthday presents at the base of his bed. He noticed that it was considerably bigger than last year.

Ron noticed his gaze, and if possible, started grinning even harder.

"Big, isn't it? I daresay you've gotten more popular this year, what with your fan club and all."

Harry blushed, embarrassed, and threw his pillow towards Ron.

"Stop being such a prick, Ron!"

Ron laughed, enjoying Harry's discomfort. Even though Harry had seen much more than what others had seen, one thing of his that hadn't changed was his innocence. He had lived through the killing curse, but he still couldn't stand it if anybody made fun of him. Ron hoped that Harry retained this quality of his, no matter what happens. In those times, such innocence was hard to come by…

"…so what do you think?"

Mentally berating himself, Ron realized that he had completely zoned out while Harry was speaking.

He sheepishly asked, "What do I think about what?"

Harry repeated himself patiently, "I asked you what 'Mione was planning on doing for today. Do you have any idea?"

Ron groaned. "No. But I sincerely hope she's not going to drag us down to the bookshop again. Last time she did that, we were stuck in there for hours."

Harry laughed, remembering the time when, last year, Hermione had dragged them to the bookstore on their Hogsmeade trip, claiming that she needed to buy a few books. They ended up spending half their day there, waiting for Hermione to finish.

Ron looked at Harry and suddenly started laughing.

"What?" Harry asked, unable to figure out why Ron was laughing.

"Nothing. Just go and get ready. 'Mione is waiting downstairs." Chuckling to himself, Ron started down the stairs, leaving Harry alone to get ready.

As he opened the door to the kitchen, he caught the aroma of coffee. He also heard some voices coming out of the kitchen.

"Vernon, please. This is not the time to discuss this…"

"You stay out of this, Petunia. I've put up with the freak ever since he was dumped on our doorstep. I even allowed him to stay here, and put up with his _freakiness_. But not any more. One owl I can handle, but five? _Five damn owls in broad daylight_! What will people say?"

Ron decided that he had heard enough, and quietly stepped in. He saw Hermione glaring at Harry's uncle; five scraps of paper in one hand, while Petunia and Vernon were glaring at the five owls that were perched on the kitchen table.

Hermione had just opened her mouth to say something back, but just then Ron spoke, "What seems to be the problem here?"

It was amazing how fast Uncle Vernon turned his head to glare at Ron instead. "Every goddamn thing! I will not tolerate five owls in my house!"

"And just exactly how do you plan on stopping them?" came another voice, from just near the door.

"Harry? Happy birthday! I'm so glad that you're finally of age! Congratulations." Hermione beamed.

Harry smiled at Hermione, and said, "Thanks. So am I." He then turned his gaze back at his uncle.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Harry repeated.

"Wh-What? You… How dare you talk to me like that! I've put up with you for all these years, you lit-," Mr. Dursley stuttered.

'Yeah, yeah, I know. You little ungrateful wretch and all that," Harry interrupted, with a sudden gleam in his eye.

"Right, well, you know what? I've had enough to. We've been through this before. I know you hate me, and you're not my most favourite people on earth either. You don't need to worry anymore, because-," Harry took out his wand and summoned his trunk, which he had packed the night before, "- I'm leaving!" he said as his trunk flew down the stairs and stopped at the front door with a 'clunk!'

He strode to the front door, saying, "Come on Ron, Hermione, We're leaving. I've had enough of this place."

"Umm, Harry?" said Hermione a little nervously when they had gone down the drive of no. 4, Privet Drive, and were on the road.

"Yeah?"

"Here," she said, thrusting two envelopes into his hand. "These are for you. For your birthday!" she added seeing his mystified face.

"Oh. Right. Thanks. Who're they from?" he asked quizzically, taking them from her. "And what about the other three envelopes?" he added, spying them in Hermione's hand.

"Oh, they're not for you! They're nothing, don't worry," she said hurriedly, a bit flustered and blushing slightly as though she was hiding something.

"Okay, if you say so …"

Harry opened the first envelope, which was addressed to him in a familiar, untidy scrawl.

'_Dear Harry,' _it said.

'_A very Happy Birthday to you! Haven't heard from you for a while__ hope the muggles aren't troubling you too much. If they are, you can always curse them, now that you've come of age! _

_I'll most probably seeing you soon. Say hi to Ron and Hermione for me,_

_Love Hagrid.'_

Harry grinned, but then frowned, puzzled. _'What does he mean by "I'll most probably meet you soon?"'_ he thought, but then realized Hagrid must mean Bill and Fleur's wedding.

He opened the second envelope, which was addressed to him in an unfamiliar handwriting, neat and tidy with a curve. Out fell a piece of parchment with a somewhat formal air. It said -

'_Dear __Mr. Potter_

_You are cordially invited to the coming-of-age party of Master Harry James Potter at __The Burrow__, on the 31__st__ of July. Please be there by 12 Noon sharp to attend to the festivities._

_Yours, _

_R. J. Lupin.'_

"Lupin?" said Harry wonderingly, eyes wide with astonishment. "You mean, _this _is what you were planning, Hermione? A _birthday party?_ Y-you…I-I… Thanks, guys." he said weakly.

"You're welcome, Harry!" His two best friends chorused.

"We're glad you're happy, Harry!" added Hermione, her eyes shining.

"Yeah, mate!" Ron agreed.

Harry turned to Ron. "You knew about this, you git! You said you didn't know what Hermione's surprise was!"

"Yeah, well, she wanted to surprise you personally," Ron replied, grinning.

"We need to get to The Burrow in time for the party! Not to mention, we need to get everything ready before that. If we don't hurry we'll get late! It's already 10:00 A.M!" Hermione chided them, looking at the watch on her wrist.

"How are we going to get there?" asked Ron, curious. Hermione hadn't mentioned their mode of travel.

'We'll be going by the Knight Bus," replied Hermione.

"Oh no! Again?" groaned the redhead.

"As I recall, it was a certain Ronald Weasley who wanted to ride the Knight Bus two years ago." retorted Hermione.

"That was then, and this is now! I hadn't ridden that mental bus before, with it's even more mental driver! How was I supposed to know it was going to be that horrible?"

"Yes, well, we all know that it _is_ a bit of a rough ride."

"A _bit_ rough? I think you've addled your brains from reading so much, 'Mione," exclaimed Ron, ducking and dodging away as a much-offended and indignant Hermione swung out a fist at him.

Harry smiled at his friends' antics. It was good to be back with them again. Best of all, he didn't have to return to the Dursleys', ever, if he didn't want to. But now that the protection of his mother's love at his relatives home was gone, it was all the more easier for Voldemort to get him. He would just have to destroy all the horcruxes, and then go for the last bit left in Voldemort's body before he had a chance to come after Harry himself.

Harry had an advantage there; he doubted if Voldemort knew that anyone but he himself knew about the horcruxes. But the problem was that he had no idea where to look. He'd just have to start from the beginning, where his chances were just as good as anybody else's.

Harry started as, with a 'bang', the Knight Bus appeared before him and his friends. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Ron fling out his right arm.

They were now on Magnolia Street, close to where Harry had first glimpsed Sirius as the huge, black dog he turned into in his animagus form. With a pang of longing, Harry remembered all the times he had spent with Sirius. It still hurt to think about him. He was gone. Gone. And he wasn't coming back. But he wouldn't have wanted Harry to mope and pine. He would have wanted Harry to move on, to keep living his life.

"Harry, come on! The Bus will leave without you!"

He was again startled out of his reverie by Hermione tugging at his sleeve, urging him to get on.

"What? Oh, right. Sorry!" he replied as he climbed on to the bus with his trunk.

"'Ere! Look 'oo it is, Ern! It's 'Arry Potter!" a familiar voice called out. It was Stan Shunpike. So the Ministry has released him, Harry though with a grin.

"Hello, Stan! I see those gits at the ministry let you out, eh?" Harry grinned.

"Aye, they let me out, after a while. I couldn't believe me eyes when the Minister 'imself came to bail me out. That Azkaban, even without 'em dementors, it's still a scary place." said Stan Shunpike, paling at the memory.

Harry's face took on a grim look at the though of the old, battle-scarred ex-auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister for Magic. He was at least better than Cornelius Fudge, who had scorned both Harry's and Dumbledore's every effort to prove that Voldemort was alive and once again a threat.

Though Scrimgeour wasn't _much_ better.

He went around trying to prove to the wizarding public that everything was under control, which was far from the truth. He doubted that anyone would really believe that everything was alright, now that Dumbledore was dead.

"Harry, mate, come on, let's go take a seat," Ron pulled him down the aisle on the bus to where Hermione was sitting. Harry put his trunk in a rack above and sat down in-between the two.

They were sitting in the fifth row from the front.

In front of them was sitting a witch with long, spiky dark green hair in long ringlets. Her face was pierced in three places.

Across the aisle from them was a wizard with a long beard and a bowler hat. He was wearing long, silver spangled robes that reminded Harry of Luna Lovegood, whose father was the owner of the wizarding magazine 'The Quibbler'.

Harry sighed, and looked out of the window.

They were off on another adventure, without knowing where the wind would take them this time. Or rather, in their case, without knowing where their hunt would lead them.

Despite the dangerous times, and the disastrous situation, Harry felt strangely at peace. He felt, somewhere within him, that this was where he was supposed to be; that this is what he was supposed to do. Seated between his two friends, he vowed to make the most of each day, and take everything as it came, no matter what it is.

He heard Stan give out a warning, and with another 'bang', they were off, ready to face their future together. Bonds of friendship are very strong; theirs was an example of that.

With time, it would get stretched to its utmost limit, and they would have to undergo several tests as well, in which they were required to emerge victorious, not only for their sake, but also for the sake of the entire world. But Harry was certain that they would not fail; they _could not_ afford to fail.

But at that point, he decided to just let things go. Whatever happens, will happen. For now, he decided to enjoy being with his friends, their only worry being the upcoming party, and the marriage.

He smiled at them both, just before with another 'bang' they were thrown off their seats and onto the floor.

Righting himself, he heard Ron mutter, "This is just bloody brilliant! A lunatic murderer is on our tail, and I'm more worried about surviving this stupid bus!"

"So, Harry, what have you been doing during your holidays?" Hermione inquired, after they had managed to sit up straight in their seats.

"Nothing much, just trying to get news of Voldemort and his lackeys. Pretty much like last year," he replied, somewhat off-handedly. Ron suppressed a shudder at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"Ron! Get _over _it already!" Hermione said exasperatedly, noticing his discomfort.

"Hey! It's not my fault!" Ron replied, indignant.

'Oh, _really?_ Then whose fault _is_ it? After all, Dumbledore himself said that fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself," came the reply.

Harry drifted to sleep as his friends continued to bicker between them; unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. Soon, they would be reaching the Burrow…it would be nice to take a short nap before than.

* * *


	7. The unexpected surprise gift

* * *

Harry awoke with a jerk as the Knight Bus screeched to a halt right in front of the Burrow, the Weasleys' home. As always, it looked as though the only thing keeping it standing was magic (which it was). Harry grinned at the sight of the old building. A wave of old, happy memories swept over him.

As he entered the house behind Ron and Hermione, trunk in tow, Harry was struck with the familiar smells and noises he always acquainted with The Burrow.

The entire house was in a flurry of excitement, and people were just blurs as they hurried about to get things ready for Harry's birthday party.

In the centre of all the excitement was Molly Weasley, Ron's mother. She was just a blur, stringing up decorations, yet at the same time keeping an eye on the pots and pans as they cooked something on the stove, occasionally reprimanding one of the twins for being a nuisance, or Tonks for knocking something over as she tried to help. It was already 11:00 AM.

Glimpsing them, Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek and ran to Harry, giving him a rib-breaking hug.

"Harry! It's so nice to see you! Happy Birthday. We were just getting everything ready for you. You're looking so thin! Haven't those muggles been feeding you? We really must fatten you up!"

With a great deal of difficulty, Harry managed to disentangle himself from Mrs. Weasley's embrace, feebly uttering objections.

"I…really…there's no need -,"

"No need? Nonsense! It's your seventeenth birthday, Harry! We're glad to be able to throw this party for you!" said Mr. Weasley, catching sight of the group and coming towards them. "By the way, happy birthday Harry," he added, shaking Harry's hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," replied Harry, grinning despite himself. "And congratulations to you too, for the wedding."

By now, everyone had gathered around Harry, congratulating him on his coming-of-age.

"Remus!" exclaimed Harry, catching sight of the werewolf.

"How…W-what…" he stuttered, unable to form a proper sentence.

Lupin laughed. "Why are you so surprised? It's your birthday. You didn't think we'd just ignore it and go on, did you? It's the least we could do!"

Harry looked around, at all the people he knew and loved, and who loved him back, all his friends. There were Molly and Arthur Weasley, Bill and Charlie, the two eldest; the twins, Fred and George; the two youngest Weasleys, Ron and Ginny, and then Hermione, his other best friend; Remus, the last of the Marauders; Tonks; even Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, and everyone else.

Love. Now he understood.

_Power the Dark Lord knows not._

He finally understood, at least partly, what Dumbledore had meant when he had said that the one thing, which made Harry different from Voldemort, was the fact that he could love.

"Thanks." he managed to croak, a small lump in his throat.

At exactly twelve 'o clock that day, the celebration began.

There were streamers of every colour decorating the entire house - bright reds, cool blues, sunny yellows, acid greens, royal purples, orangey oranges, shimmery silvers and golds, pinks, and many other colours.

A large birthday cake with seventeen layers sat waiting on the dining table. It was covered with white, chocolate, and pink icing. On the top was written, '_To Harry! Have a great coming-of-age!'_

Surrounding the cake was a variety of delicious looking dishes, made by Mrs. Weasley.

Harry felt his mouth water as he looked at the food.

"Harry, get over here! First things first, open your presents!" urged the twins.

"Presents?" Harry repeated slowly.

"Yes, presents, you git! Now come over here and open them!" was the reply. Fred (or maybe it was George) dragged him along to the sitting room and told him to sit down.

"It's your birthday! Relax a bit!" Fred (or maybe George) told him. Ron, Hermione, the other twin, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny gathered around a stunned looking Harry.

"Open this one first! It's from Lupin," someone said, pushing a box into Harry's hands. It had a striped wrapping paper and was a bit bulky. He opened it, and out fell two books.

The first was titled, "Wandless Magic: How to control it". Harry looked at Remus, who grinned and said, "Thought it might interest you, what with blowing up your aunt and all."

Harry laughed, but was still curious. He had a sudden urge to start looking through it straight away, but then he caught a glimpse of the other book.

It was a picture album. He opened it and found it was filled with pictures of the Marauders in their younger days, when they were still at school.

He flipped through the pages. There was Remus, smiling and waving at the camera. He turned a page and saw, with a clenched stomach, Sirius, grinning, with his arm around James. As he managed to tear himself away from the picture and turned the page, he saw another picture.

James, in scarlet quidditch robes and holding a broom in one hand, held his other hand aloft, a snitch squirming in vain to get away from him. Surrounding him, all cheering and laughing, were six other people also in robes, the Gryffindor quidditch team. Also around him were Sirius, Remus, Pettigrew (his heart beat quickened with anger) and, standing proud, with shiny red hair and deep green eyes, the same eyes as him, Harry saw, with a leap of his heart, Lily Potter. Or Lily Evans, as she wasn't married at that time.

"Harry? You alright?" someone shook him.

"What? Oh, right. Yeah, I'm fine." He replied. He looked up at Remus's worried face, and grinned. Relief seemed to wash over Lupin, and he smiled in return.

Harry opened the rest of his presents, thanking everyone profusely as he received them.

From Ron, he got a small, miniature enchanted quidditch pitch, complete with hoops, stands and tiny players on brooms. He thanked Ron as he watched the enchanted seeker make its way around the pitch in search of the snitch.

From Hermione, he got, predictably, a book, entitled, 'Defence and Offence: The Do's and Don'ts when fighting a Dark Wizard.'

From the twins, numerous Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and plenty of Honeydukes Sweets.

From Ginny, Bill and Charlie, a new dress robe, black in colour with silver edges and a symbol on the back. It was a cross, with two wings, spread outwards at the top, a three pointed crown above them and a serpent winding up it (Think 'Fullmetal Alchemist').

From Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry got a watch; much similar to the one Ron had got on his seventeenth birthday.

Along with all of that, Harry also got a wand holster, a place to keep his wand in when he was not using it; a ring that was also a Portkey, and could be used in an emergency by activating it by using the word "order"; and his favourite – a plain chain with Merlin's symbol hanging from it, to be worn around his neck. 'Mad-Eye' Moody, who said that it was a very old artefact and a very useful one as well, gave it to him.

"Keep it safe, boy. Mark my words; this artefact will save your life, someday. It has been charmed to protect its wearer from small curses or spells. Nothing fancy, mind you, but protect you, it shall do." Moody explained

The rest of the day went by all too quickly. Lunch was an extremely enjoyable affair, with everyone sitting and laughing, enjoying themselves.

Harry sat at the head of the table. On either side of him sat Ron and Hermione. As he cut the cake, Fred and George set off small crackers, which, as they told him, were modified especially for his birthday.

They gave one to Harry to pull, and out of it came a cone-shaped hat, with a sparkly pom-pom at the top, the type muggle children wore on their birthdays. Harry had to sit through the rest of lunch wearing the hat, as the twins informed him it would not come off for two hours.

As he cut the cake Mrs. Weasley had made, everyone, much to his embarrassment, started to sing 'Happy birthday to you', as Harry blushed a bright, tomato red.

After lunch, everyone rested for a few hours while the twins and Ginny entertained them with some of their Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

At dinner, Mrs. Weasley had once again cooked up an extraordinary meal with four whole courses. By the end of the meal, Harry had to make his belt several notches looser.

Right after dinner, Fred and George disappeared for about half an hour. No one really noticed, until they were all shaken out of their lazy after-dinner chat as the house was rocked with a symphony of loud, ear-splitting claps, bangs and whistles.

Half the people in the room pulled out their wands, until Bill shouted, "Fireworks! Those two gits have gone and set off all their fireworks!" That explained why they had snuck off, and everyone piled out of the house into the backyard to witness the splendid Catherine wheels, rockets, and other fireworks.

The fireworks went on all night, and even as dawn approached, there were still a few sparklers and other fireworks going about, writing words like 'Congratulations,' and 'Have a nice day,' though with less grandeur as more time passed.

All in all, the day passed wonderfully, without them even noticing how fast the time went by. Harry just sighed, looking up at the sky, watching dawn approach. His two friends, Ron and Hermione were by his side, just as they always were. He closed his eyes and wished that everything worked out fine, and that everybody was happy once again.

Opening his eyes, he turned around and started to walk back into the house. His friends followed him, without needing to speak a single word; sometimes silence works just as well.

Since he didn't turn back, he missed the shooting star that shot through the sky, leaving a blaze behind.

Meanwhile, far away, yet another person had his eyes closed with a wish in his heart. However, when he opened his eyes, he found himself looking straight at the shooting star that had whizzed past the sky. He instantly knew that something good was going to happen.

With hope in his heart, and a new light in his eyes, he prepared himself for the next day, when he knew it was going to take all he could do to stay alive. But he was prepared to wait, just as he had been waiting for all these years. He only hoped that whatever good was supposed to happen, happened before his luck ran out.

* * *


End file.
